


I Was Sent to Warn You, the Devil's Right Beside You

by ShawneeXSavage



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 00:24:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShawneeXSavage/pseuds/ShawneeXSavage
Summary: What happens, when the rumors just aren’t rumors?





	1. Chapter 1

_Rumors._

 That’s all that there was to surround them. Like a thick fog, swirling and concealing, not letting anybody in, and sure as hell not letting anybody out. Rumors created gods amongst men, built towers that were so impossibly high, that there was no way that they could be real, right?

_Right?_

That’s what they believed when they heard about the Saviors, when they heard about _him_. Ruthless, intelligent, sadistic, evil, wielding with an iron fist. No room for mistakes, no room for treason. A simple mistake led to _death_ , squeaky wheels _eradicated and exterminated_. But, they had dealt with worse, they had _seen_ worse. This was all hearsay, words thrown in hushed whispers by people who didn’t know what _true ugliness_ looked like.

So, they thought nothing of it when they went in the dead of night, snuffing out the lights of an outpost. It was easy, no fight, a simple in, get in done, and get out. Even with a bump in the road towards the end, they had still managed to pull their group together, all still intact, while the enemies lied scattered amongst the floor.

_That was the start of the end._

Little by little, the rumors began to make sense. Organized attacks, captured allies, _dead friends_ , it all came tumbling down so fast. The fog began to clear, and outlines could be made of the monsters that hid behind them. But, it’s not the rumors about _him_ , that scared them the most.

_It was about her._

‘ _If her gun leaves her holster, you’re dead. She doesn’t waste a shot.’_

_‘I’ve seen her gouge someone’s eyes out with her thumbs. HER thumbs, for looking at her the wrong way.’_

_‘She’s his own personal attack dog.’_

_‘She’s worse than him.’_

_‘You’ll never see or hear her, before it’s too late.’_

And, at first, they don’t believe it. There’s no way that there is someone worse than _him_. Hell, they didn’t think there was anyone worse than the Governor. But, a bat to the head and two of their beloved down, hell, he’s the devil walking amongst humans. The rumors about him are all true, exceeded their expectations, and then some.

But, it’s when they see _her_ , that they really fear the rumors. She shows up by his side after the beating, dressed in all black, hair dark as night and eyes bright as the sky. Black grease paint smeared across her eyes and the bridge of her nose, making them pop _more_ , boring into your skin and wiggling its way into your soul. She moved like a cat, graceful, silent, a look of apathy and _boredom_. The blood didn’t bother her, the bodies didn’t bother her. The snot, tears, wailing, none of that bothered her.

 _Cold as marble_.

She eyed them, every single one of them. A hard line across her plump lips, bright eyes scanning sniveling forms. Nothing wavered across her face, nothing flickered behind her eyes, she just stared and watched, not a single sound coming from her. She glides across the forest floor, not a single leaf crunching as she circles them like a vulture, ready to tear into its prey. No one can make eye contact with her, fear constricting their bones.

_If the rumors about him are true, then so are the ones about her._

When their eyes lift again, she’s gone. Vanished just like the mist she waltzed in on, and their alone again, with _him_. He spells it out for them, takes their ‘so-called’ leader on a spiritual journey, and brings him back crying, snot pouring down his face and his tail between his legs.

“ _Half of your shit, that’s all I want.”_ Voice mocking, so sugary sweet it leaves a bad taste in their mouths. And, then they’re gone, one of their own scooped up like a P.O.W, while the rest must pick up the pieces, recollect and figure _what they should do_.

“ _What do we do?”_ Cold eyes water, tears mingle with the sweat and blood, and clench and pull, latching on to hope, _hope that isn’t there._

 _“We do what he asks.”_ The silence is deafening after that, defeat hot in their ears. They try to pick-up the pieces as best as the can, but it’s not enough. It never really will be.

_What happens, when the rumors just aren’t rumors?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to Black_Lotus and guests for the comments and kudos. I know that this story is just starting, but you're support means so much.

“Well, well, well. Lookie at what we have here? If it isn’t ole’ Rick, the Prick!” A devilish grin tears across the man’s face, too many teeth showing when he smiles. Like a shark, about to go in for the kill. Rick can’t do anything but stare, eyes red rimmed and wide as the Saviors slowly push past him, his mouth hung open in shock.

“Y-you’re early.” Negan grins down at him, tall and all-consuming. He’s wearing a leather jacket in the mid-morning sun, like he’s not affected by the humidity and heat. He just leans forward, throws a warm arm around Rick’s shoulders and pulls him close. Like their acquaintances, _friends_ , not like they’re enemies.

“I just had to see your face again, Rick. It warms my heart to see you again.” Another vicious grin projected at him, large hand squeezing his shoulder _tight_ , before being released. Rick stands still, shock coursing through his body, before barbed wire enters his vision. Heart beating erratically, he watches as Negan drags it into his line of sight, holding it out to him, face full of joy.

“Hold this for me, would ya? And, why don’t you go ahead and give us the grand tour of this place. “Rick eyes the bat momentarily, before his hand wraps around the wooden handle. A heaviness not only fills his hand, but his heart as well.

 _This bat killed Abraham, it killed Glenn_. He stares at it in disgust, eyes dancing over the bloody barbs and stained wood. _Is that their blood? Is that all that he has left of them?_ His eyes flicker up, catching Negan’s face, which is broken wide with a grin, too happy for this world today.

“Well, go on now, Rick. Show me around your little abode here.” Rick nods numbly, holding the bat up slightly, so it doesn’t drag the ground, and begins to walk forward. That’s when he sees him.

Daryl.

_His brother._

He makes a hasty step towards him, before a large hand his pressed against the center of his chest, a loud _‘tsk tsk tsk_ ’ filling the air. Rick stares wide eyed at Negan, whose looking down his nose at him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you. Ya see, if you, or anyone here, for that matter, goes anywhere near him, well. Hell let’s just say that you won’t like the outcomes.” Rick stares at Daryl, taking in his bruised face, his ashen skin, his soiled clothes. His brother was a POW right now, and it was _all his fault_.

“Let me just make sure he’s okay, please.” Rick never used to beg, but given the position that he was in now? It was like that’s all he knew how to do. Negan’s laughter echoed throughout the silent community, his voice loud and brash.

“He’s alive, ain’t he? Can’t be anymore okay than that!” Another loud bark of laughter, before that warm arm is thrown over Rick’s shoulder again, guiding him away from his brother, and towards the empty streets of Alexandria. Rick doesn’t chance to take another glance over his shoulder, just dropping his head and nodding resolutely.

He’s right, _at least he was still alive_.

Rick can hear Negan’s people barking out orders, taunting his own, but he’s embarrassed to say it takes him a little bit longer to see _her._

He catches her movements barely in his peripheral, and when he turns his head, she’s already gone. His brows crease, lip drawn tight. He wasn’t hallucinating, was he? He swore he was the night of the incident, didn’t know if she was real, or just a figment of his grief-stricken brain. Negan shows no indication of the woman being there, so Rick just assumes she isn’t.

Until, she is.

When the gunshot rings out, they all but sprint towards the sound. That is, until Negan’s hand clamps firmly onto his shoulder and wields him back.

“Easy there, tiger. We’ll get there when we get there.” The walk was excruciatingly slow, until they arrived in the infirmary, and Rick had to old back the gasp that was lodged in his throat.

There was his son, Carl, pointing a gun at a man, who had a duffel bag full of items in his hand. The man was sneering towards his son but wasn’t sneering _at_ his son.

 _He was sneering at her_.

She stood in between the Savior and his son, dressed in all black, the tight clothes hugging her body like a glove. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, loose strands framing her face, her expression cold and calculating. A thick strip of black paint blanketed her eyes, bridging across her nose like war paint, making her crystal eyes pop out more against her tanned skin. She had her body planted directly in front of Carl, equal parts between them, eyes boring into the Savior.

He continued to sneer at her, unaware of the new arrivals.

“You think, that just cause yer fuckin’ him, means you can just boss us around? That’s not how this shit works!” The woman’s bored eyes never left the man’s, her body relaxed as she stood there. She briefly shrugged her shoulders, before speaking.

“Honestly, to me, it just sounds like your jealous that I get to suck his dick, _and you don’t_.” The other man howled out in frustration and went to reach for his gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, but it was too late.

She was on him in a heartbeat, body twisting gracefully away as she wrenched his arm behind his back, delivering a swift kick to the outside of his knee, before he crumpled to the ground. She dragged his head down into her knee, a sharp crack resonating throughout the small room, before blood began to pour from the man’s nose. His body dropped into a crumpled pile on the floor, and she was back to standing in her relaxed position, hands pressed gently against the sides of her hips.

This all happened within about 5 seconds, and Rick’s eyes could barely keep up.

“Lower the gun, kid. I don’t want to have to hurt you too.” Rick’s heart froze as the raspy words left the woman’s lips. She didn’t even turn her head to look towards his son, bending down and grabbing the duffel bag that the other Savior had.

“Not until you give us our medicine back. We have people that need that.” The woman cocked her brow momentarily, looking into the bag, before turning her head lazily towards the boy. Rick could visibly see Carl tense up, his hand vibrating with fear or aggression, he couldn’t quite tell which one.

“Whew boy, do you have a set of steel balls on you, kid! Rick, take a page out of your son’s book on how to be a fuckin’ man!” Negan clapped slowly, stepping towards the woman and Carl, eyes glowing with excitement.

“I mean, kid, _look at you_ , I haven’t seen Savage in action in a long time. Nice to know she still has it in her.” Negan threw a wink over his shoulder to the woman clad in black.

 _Savage, that’s what he called her_?

Rick’s eyes were torn between her and his son, dancing from one figure to another. She didn’t even spare a glance towards the man, eyes trained on the contents in the bag.

“But, I’m gonna tell you right now, _you don’t wanna push her_. See, David there? He got off easy, _for now_. Hell knows what’s gonna happen to him when he wakes up.” Negan shot a scowl towards the unconscious man on the floor, his fingers flexing momentarily. Rick watched in bewilderment as Savage slowly slinked towards Negan, her gloved hand brushing against the crook of Negan’s elbow momentarily, before dropping back to her side. It was almost unseen, how discreetly she had done it, but the effect that it had on Negan could be seen from a mile away.

His shoulders unfurled, hand hanging limply by his side, as his body sagged a little. Whatever built up tension the man had, was completely washed away in almost an instant.

 _All from a single touch_.

“You might wanna go ahead and put the gun down, kid. I normally don’t like repeating myself.” Negan focused his gaze back on Carl, his eyes darkening slightly. Carl eyes bore right back, his fingers flexing around the gun.

“Carl, please. It’s not worth it.” The warble in Rick’s voice didn’t go unnoticed, and Carl looked at his dad with cold eyes, before slowly lowering the gun. Negan grinned at the teenager, teeth sparkling white, as he moved forward and gently pulled it from his grasp.

“Now, even though you are a bold as fuck kid, this little dick swingin’ contest as got me thinkin’ that y’all don’t _need_ any weapons on ya. I mean, hell, we can’t have y’all pullin’ a gun out on us whenever you feel like it!” Negan slipped the gun in the waistband of his trousers, grinning at Carl before he turned around and sized up the woman behind him. There eyes locked momentarily, before Negan let out a low breath and called out to his men.

“Gather up any weapon that you can find in this hellhole, make sure they’re all accounted for before we roll outta here.” Negan wheels Rick out of the infirmary, questioning him about his armory and informing him that they’re going to leave him their food for the time being.

“We need y’all to be strong enough to collect for us. Consider it an extension of my gratitude. A simple thank you would suffice.” Negan grins down at Rick, a wolfish smile that shoots ice cold fear down his spine. Rick refuses to open his mouth, glaring at the man in front of him. Negan’s patience wears thin, before he’s gripping Rick by the jaw and hauling him close, his warm breath fanning across his face.

“You’re forcing my hand here, Prick. I should’ve killed you and your entire little group and burned this whole mother fucker to the ground. _But, I didn’t_. Cause, I’m a _goddamn_ gentleman. So, you should show your appreciation for my leniency.” Before Rick had a chance to retort, one of Negan’s Saviors came up to him, eyes hard as steel as she informed him that two guns were missing from the armory.

A low wolf whistle left Negan’s chapped lips, before he released Rick’s jaw and shoved him forward slightly.

“Well, well, well. Looks like we have a little problem on our hands. Now, Rick, I’m gonna need you to be the leader that you so desperately want to be, or Miss Piggy over here is gonna get a bullet to the head.” Rick’s eyes dart over to a frightened Olivia, the woman in charge of the numbers and the organization of Alexandria. Tears streaked down her face, glasses fogging up from the heat and moisture. Rick nodded his head numbly, calling a town meeting and informing his people of what was going on.

“How’re we gonna get out of this? What’s the plan?” Rick’s eyes were dead as he spoke, no fire in his voice, no fire in his soul.

“There is no way out. Negan is in charge, not me. It’s best that we all just do what he says, so we don’t lose anyone else.” That was it, the group disbanded and the search for the guns continued.

It didn’t take long before they found the one stashed in Spencer’s house, nor before Rick saw Michonne creeping around one of the dilapidated buildings on the outskirts community.

“Give me a second, I need to talk to her.” Negan just smiles down at Rick, a large toothy grin with his arms crossed across his broad chest. Rick grounds his teeth, before asking again.

“Please, may I have a second with her?” Negan chuckles, pushing Rick towards her.

“Of course, Rick. All you had to do was ask.” Rick explained his situation, removing the second missing gun from Michonne and handing it over to one of Negan’s men.

“See, now was that so hard? I like to think I’m a very reasonable man, Rick. Just do what I ask, and all will be right in this little fucked up world.”

“Can he stay?” Negan glances down at Rick, smirking as the man in front of him stumbles over his words.

“Daryl, can he stay with us in Alexandria? W-we’ve done everything that you’ve asked of us. Can he stay with us, please?” Negan almost cooed at how cute it was to see Rick fumbling over his words like a scolded toddler. Instead, he just threw his head over his shoulder and called out to Daryl.

“You hear that, Daryl? Ole Prick here wants you to come stay with them? Do you wanna stay? I don’t mind sharin’ custody!” The hunter stayed silent eyes on the ground, feet scrubbing into the dirt. Negan stared at him for a few seconds, before rolling his shoulders and shrugging.

“Huh, guess he likes stayin’ with me more. Maybe we’ll try again next time.” As Negan’s men began loading up the supplies that the scavenged from Alexandria, the man stared down at Rick.

“I ain’t leavin’ here until I get a thank you, Rick. I mean, after all I’ve done for you. _Hell_ , one of my own went and beat down another for your serial killer son, _it’s the least you could do_.” Negan grinned down at the man as those two words slipped past his broken lips. Negan patted Rick on the shoulder, gingerly pulling his bat from his hand.

“Can’t forget Lucille here, I don’t think y’all will take care of her as well as I do.” Without blinking Negan wrenched Rick close to him, the barbs of the bat pressing tightly into his chest as Negan’s hot breath ghosted along the shell of Rick’s ear.

“I just slipped my dick down your throat, and you thanked me for it.” Negan pushed Rick back, before turning on his heel and making his way towards his truck, leaving the broken man clenching his fists in anger.

He didn’t hear the footsteps until the person was already beside him, didn’t feel the strap being pressed into his hand until it was already there, didn’t hear the words ghosting against his ear until it was already being carried away in the wind.

“Keep your people in line, Rick. Y’all won’t survive long with this chip on your shoulder.” Savage breezed past him, hardly even stopping as she spoke, and made her way towards the trucks as well. Rick stared at her wide eyed, never leaving her figure until the gates closed, locking them in.

He looked down at what was placed in his hands, and nearly dropped the object as he realized what it was.

_She had left the medicine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to guest and Jilum for the kudos. I really appreciate your support. I just got a new job, so I'm working on the update schedule.

“You really are your father’s son, you know that?” Carl whipped around, eye wide with shock. He didn’t dare peek around from behind the crate, hands gripped tight around the gun that he had acquired in the back of the truck. He tried to slow his breathing, sucking in a slow, deep breath, and exhaling it as quietly as he could between his lips.   
“No, seriously. This is some dumb shit that he would try.” The sheriff’s hat was swiftly removed from the top of his head. He raised his gun, but the barrel was grabbed harshly, yanked forward, then pushed back, sending him sprawled across the dusty floor of the truck. He heard metal scraping against metal, before the disassembled gun was tossed at his feet. He carefully raised his head, his only eye tracking the dark silhouetted figure in front of him. She looked the same as the last time he saw her, dressed head to toe in black, a dark swatch of midnight across her cerulean eyes, haired tied back and flowing like a waterfall down her back.  
“Who are you?” The corner of her lip quirked ever so slightly, before she raised her arm. Carl winced, closing his eye, before he felt a light ‘plop’ on his head. Opening his eye warily, he gently raised his arms, fingering the hat that sat on top of his head.   
“Right now, it looks like I’m the person whose keeping you alive.” Her voice was raspy, slightly deep, but still melodic at the same time. It was puzzling to him, really, reminded him of some celebrity he had a crush on back when the world was still put together. But, her words caused something in his blood to boil, a seething glare ripping across her body.  
“I don’t need you to keep me alive.” He was surprised to hear her laugh, it down right shocked him to his core. His mouth fell open as he watched her, eyes closed, and lips parted, a sharp bark of laughter. She mimicked wiping tears from her eyes, staring down at him with a hand on her hip.  
“That’s real cute, kid. Honestly, but, I’ve already been through puberty, I know how to handle the mood swings.” Carl seethed again, shooting up to his knees and lunging towards the woman. He wrapped his arms around her legs when-  
When he grabbed onto nothing but air, a sharp pressure pushing into the middle of his back, pinning his arms underneath as he collided with the dusty floor. The foot on his back was replaced with a knee and he let out a winded whine as the pressure increased.   
“I’d be careful if I was you, kid. Your recklessness will get you killed one day.” The growl cupped the shell of his ear, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. The pressure on his back didn’t let up, if anything, it pressed down further and further, before it felt like his ribs were about to crack. That’s when the truck rolled to a stop, and the noises of the outside world started to filter in. Carl’s head was turned towards the back of the truck, so he couldn’t see the charismatic face peering into the opening.   
“Well, I’ll be damned! What did you catch for me, Savage?” Carl heard the voice and whipped his head around just in time to see Negan put both elbows on the bed of the truck, white teeth shining in the shadows of the truck.  
“Is that the mini serial killer? Whew, boy! Today is just my luh-kee day!” Negan pushed himself from the back of the truck, and suddenly Carl was hauled up by the scruff of his shirt, stumbling forward until he practically fell out of the truck. Negan was grinning up at him, Lucille draped across his leather clad shoulders, blood red scarf tucked around his neck.  
“Now, tell me kid, what do I owe the pleasure?” The glare on Carl’s face deepened and Negan’s smile grew. He lazily reached his hand out, the one that wasn’t holding Lucille, and gripped at something out of Carl’s peripheral. Then, a line of black danced in the corners of his vision, before the woman was pulled towards Negan, her body slotting close to his. Negan traced his hand up woman’s side, over her arm, until his hand wrapped lightly around her neck. Carl watched something flash across the man’s eyes, it disappearing just as quickly as it came, before he dropped his hand and turned towards him.  
“Well, you must be here for a tour, aren’t you? ‘t’s not fair for you to show me your place and me not show mine. Mi casa is su casa and all that shit.” Negan latched his hand onto the boy’s shoulders, wheeling him towards the massive factory laid out in front of them. Negan weaved Carl throughout the entire place, showing him the mess hall, the workshops, even the cellars. He showed him everything the Sanctuary had to offer, a little black shadow following closely behind.  
Carl would spare a glance at her every once in a while, her bright eyes always catching his, which made him immediately drop his gaze. They were too bright in his opinion, eerily hypnotic and seemingly glowing against her dark war paint. But, while he walked and watched, he never noticed her tense up. She floated around the place like an apparition, always calm, cool, and collected.   
That is, until the made it to the very top floor, right before they got to the roof. Carl saw her shoulders tense the tiniest bit, the placid look on her face tightening ever so slightly. He could feel it in Negan too, the way his heavy hand on his shoulder gripped a little bit tighter. When Negan pushed open the door, he could almost understand why. In the room in front of him, women laid sprawled out on couches, clothed in all black tight dresses, their legs showing, and the breasts pushed up. Carl could feel his blood pressure pick up, sweat forming along his temples.  
“Ah, when’s the last time you’ve seen something like this, kid? All the women at your place, they dress like they’re fuckin’ nuns.” Carl couldn’t help but let his eye dance over the scantily clad women in front of him. They were gorgeous, every single one of them, but he felt a darkness sweep over the room, all the women’s eyes locking onto something over his shoulder. That’s when he realized that Savage was still with them, and the women did not look happy to see her.  
“Negan, we need to talk.” A woman stepped forward, light brown hair and a mole above her brow stepped forward, sneering at the figure behind Carl, before gently grabbing Negan’s elbow. Negan’s eyes darted towards Carl momentarily, before flicking behind him, then back to the woman in front of him, a large smile pulling across his face.   
“And, what might we need to talk about, Sherry?” The woman, Sherry, glances over her shoulder towards a young woman with long blonde hair, sniffling on the couch. Negan’s smile drops immediately, eyes darkening before he nods his head slowly, pulling Sherry over to the bar, talking in hushed whispers. Carl watched with his interest peaked, before a gentle touch to the small of his back startled him.  
“You’re not gonna like what you’re about to see.” Carl looks up towards the woman beside him. Her eyes are hauntingly clear, reminding him of the time his parents to him to the Florida Keys for a family vacation. In that moment, Carl takes the time to study the woman, Savage. He openly stares at her eyes, drawing from the top of her head, down across her face, which holds a softness he was surprised to see. There’s no harsh lines, or hard divots, just supple smoothness, a slight bump in middle of her nose, and a faint scar tracing down the left corner of her mouth. His eye continues downward, taking in her narrow shoulders, completely covered in a tight, black fabric. He can’t help but focus on her chest, the swell neatly outlined in her outfit. When he makes it to her hips, he hears a quiet sound, his eye darting back up to see an amused look on the woman’s face.   
“Ya like what ya see? I’m gonna have to say though, kid, you’re a bit too young for me.” Carl could feel the heat rise to his cheeks, and just as he went to retort, Negan came back, a dark scowl on his face, the soft whimpers of a woman behind him. Carl glanced around the tall man’s frame, taking in the woman huddled around the blonde, who was dabbing her eyes with a tissue, tears clinging to her thin lashes.  
“Well, today is your lucky day, kid. You get to see the ‘Iron’.” Negan didn’t say much else, gripping Carl’s shoulders and wheeling him out of the room. Before they crossed the threshold, Negan called out over his shoulder.   
“Savage make sure all the girls are in attendance for this. It’s gonna be a show.”   
And, a show it was.  
Carl was disgusted but what he had witnessed, the sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh wafting through the open area at the center of the Sanctuary. Negan gave a long schpeel, one that Carl had no intention of listening too, his eyes focused on the unconscious man lying in the dirt, piss soaking his pants and half of his face seared off.   
As they made their way back to Negan’s quarters, he could hear the faint shouts coming from up ahead, and by the time they reached that solid door again, he could practically hear the wails clear as day.  
“You stupid fuckin’ slut! Who the hell do you think you are, just waltzing in here like you own the damn place! Like, Negan actually give a FUCK about you!” When the door creaked open, Negan’s eyes dark and menacing, they were met with the sight of Savage, surrounded in a sea of black, like wolves circling their prey. The teary-eyed blonde was red in the face, chest heaving as she yelled and jabbed her finger into the other woman’s chest, whose eyes were just as bored as they were when the was in the infirmary at Alexandria.  
“What’s the matter, Amber? You feel threatened because you went and fucked up? Afraid Negan’s gonna toss you out on your ass and actually make you work?” The woman howled again, launching herself at Savage, who easily dodged the attack, grabbing the blonde’s arm and twisting it behind her back, causing the woman to drop down to her knees.   
“ENOUGH!” Both women looked up, Amber’s eyes wide with fear, while Savage’s were cold. Savage released the woman’s arm, stepping away and placing her hands up in an appeasing manner.   
“N-Negan! Sh-she just attacked me out of nowhere! Sh-she’s jealous of us! Of all of us! You should hear the things that she says about you behind your back!” The woman rushes towards Negan, tears falling, her words tumbling out over hiccups. Negan let his eyes dart from the woman in front of him, to the woman who was now leaned against the frame of a doorway, eyebrow raised. Negan let out a deep, rumbling sigh, before he grabbed Carl’s shoulder and pushed passed the blonde.   
“Shut the fuck up, Amber.” Negan stalked past the rest of the women, pushing Carl into a new, spacious room. Negan stopped in the door momentarily, head giving a miniscule nod, before a shadow followed in behind him. A squawk was heard, before the door slammed sharply into the frame. Negan eyed Carl for a moment, before he spoke.  
“Never get married, kid. Wives are the absolute worst.” A snort echoed from the corner, Savage perusing a bookshelf fingering the spines of the weathered novels.  
“Or, just don’t collect a harem of dumbasses.” A low growl emitted from Negan’s throat, before he plopped down onto his black leather chair, motioning for Carl to sit across from him.  
“So, tell me kid, what do you think of this place?” Carl stared at the man, bewilderment tickling his mind. He had never met someone like this man, ever. He talked to Carl as if he were an adult, not some child that the rest of his group, his dad, treated him like. This psychotic man was actually asking Carl about his opinion? He couldn’t remember the last time that happened.  
But, then last a tidal wave, Carl remembered everything that this man had done. He remembered Glenn, Abraham, Daryl. He remembered what had just happened, and his anger erupted. He lunged at Negan, a vicious snarl erupting from his lips. But, before he could even make it halfway off the couch, he was ripped back down, shoulders pressed roughly into the leather, fingers digging deep. He struggled momentarily, before he yelped out in pain as a slender finger rolled under his muscle, tweaking it.   
“Jesus, you really are gonna grow up to be a serial killer, aren’t you?” Negan smiled down at the boy, not affected by the failed attack on him. Carl glared over his shoulder at the woman who still had her fingers digging deep into his shoulder. She smiled down at him.  
“Now, I have got to ask you a question kid, cause it has been bugging me since the day at met you.” Carl stared at the man in front of him, who had removed his leather jacket and scarf, and was just sitting there in a white t-shirt, elbows on his knees, Lucille propped up against the chair beside him.  
“Only if I get to ask you one in return.” Negan quirked his eyebrow, leaning back slightly, before a grin slowly spread across his face.   
“Sure kid, why not? But, my question is first. What the hell is under that bandage of yours? I know it’s gotta be a real buzzkill with the ladies. Hell, I saw the way you were looking at my wives earlier.” The fingers that were digging in Carl’s shoulders eased up, before they were gone completely. Carl watched as the woman slowly walked over towards the window that overlooked the walker’s graveyard, her body still angled towards the two who were sitting on the couch.  
“Nothing. There’s nothing underneath it.” Negan stared at the boy for a minute, studying his face.  
“Take it off.” Carl startled, eye widening. He glanced over towards Savage, but her eyes were still focused looking out the window, seemingly out of the conversation.  
“What?”  
“I don’t think I stuttered. Did I stutter, Savage? I said Take. It. Off.” Negan wrapped his hand slowly around the handle of Lucille, pulling her ever so closely. Carl gulped, before removing his hat, and slowly unwinding the bandage. When it dropped into his lap, he took a deep breath, pushing his hair back, and looking up at Negan.   
“Well, I’ll be damned. You have a bonafide fuckin’ hole in your head.” Carl could feel the tears prickling his eyes, before he dropped his head again, sniffling. Out of his peripheral, a shadow moved behind Negan, ghosting over his shoulder, before re-appearing at the window again.   
“Kid, kid, come on. I didn’t mean it like that. You’re a fuckin’ badass, you know that? Hell, if you went around showing that off, you’d get all the pussy in the world.” Carl sucked in a sharp breath, laughter threatening to bubble out. He shook his head slowly, before he lifted his head again, staring at Negan. Negan didn’t cringe or outwardly look disgusted by Carl’s missing eye, which was a first for him.  
“It really is pretty fuckin’ badass though.” Carl shrugged his sore shoulders, rolling them back, before reaching for the bandages in his lap.  
“Nah, leave it off. Show these fuckers here what a real survivor looks like.” Carl blinked owlishly at the man in front of him, before shrugging his shoulders again and dropping his hands in his lap. He looked around the room, a phantom tingling from where missing eye is was. He looked towards the woman who was staring out the window, eyes transfixed on something below them.   
“What’s the deal with you?” Savage turned her head slowly towards the boy, eyes boring into his, into the hole in his head.  
“What?” Carl squared his shoulders, eyebrows dipping down slightly, glaring at the woman. He pushed his long hair away from his face, so she could get a full view of him.  
“I said, what’s the deal with you? Who are you?” Carl watched as the woman’s lip quirked ever so slightly.   
“Now kid…”  
“You said I get to ask a question in return, THAT’S my question.” Negan’s jaw ticked ever so slightly, before he let out a sigh and leaned back into his leather chair. He rolled his head towards Savage, palm open on the arm of his chair.  
“You heard the kid, tell him who you are.” Savage turned slowly towards Carl, a small smile playing on her lips. She silently glided towards him, her movements silent as she kneeled in front of him. She raised her arms, her hands gently cupping either side of Carl’s face, her cold eyes boring into his. He struggled, trying to remove his head from her grasp, but she just held on tighter, leaning forward until her breath ghosted across his face.  
“I’m your worst nightmare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

“You have got to be fuckin’ shittin’ me.” Negan walked around the living room, arms spread wide, Lucille held up in his hands. His eyes danced around the lavish home, glossing over the marble countertops of the open kitchen, to the stainless-steel appliances. He let out a low wolf whistle as he made his way over towards the sink, flicking the water on and off, on and off, his grin growing wider and wider.

“Well, I’ll be fuckin’ damned. Y’all are living the good mother fuckin’ life here, kid!” He turns towards Carl, eyes wide and teeth bared. Like a kid in a candy store. Or a house with running water and electricity in the apocalypse. Either or. Carl’s eyes darts from Negan, to the shadow ghosting around the living room, movements so quiet, it could be mistaken for the rustling of the wind.

“I may just have to get a vacation home here. Get away from all the nagging back at the Sanctuary.” Negan laughs at his own joke, doubling over as he rests Lucille against the counter top. Carl eyes it for a moment, before he lets out a deep sigh, eyes dropping towards the floor. His head darts up, however when he hears the squeak of the stairs. He turns fast, dark hair fanning around him as he sees a boot disappear up the stairs. He starts towards them, before a solid hand latches onto his shoulder, dragging him back.

“Uh, uh, uh. Now, what do you have up there that as you all in a tizzy?” Carl glances up at the man, his overly white teeth beaming down at him as they slowly make their way towards the stairs. He hears a door creak open, eyes wide as he glances towards Olivia, whose been frozen in place since Negan burst through the front door. Her eyes water as she mouths an ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ towards Carl, before him and Negan ascend the stairs. Carl squeezes his eye shut tight as the reach the landing, praying that nothings happened in the short span its taken them to get up there. When he opens it again, his jaw nearly hits the floor.

Judith is all but _cooing_ at the woman that is holding her, as if she’s known her the entirety of her incredibly short laugh. She’s giggling in the woman’s arms, hands patting at the woman’s face, black grease paint smudging down her face. And, the woman just stands there, a small smile pulled across her lips, as she lazily bounces from one foot to the other, her curtain of her swaying from side to side.

“Well, I’ll be damned kid. This place is just full of surprises.” Carl’s heart stops as Negan leaves his side, stalking towards his baby sister, he leans forward stretching his hand out to protect Judith, when she just _opens her arms and let’s Negan take her_. She giggles and laughs, slapping her paint covered hands against Negan’s clean-shaven face, eyes full of delight. And, Negan doesn’t scream or try to bash her head in. He just _smiles_. Like, he’s the goddamn baby sitter.

“When’s the last time you’ve seen a kid?” His voice is quiet, so quiet that Carl almost didn’t hear it, but he did. It’s as shocking to hear what he heard, as it is for him to see what he’s seeing. The woman, Savage, circles around Negan like a vulture, hand dancing across his hip, before tossing the soft blonde locks of Judith’s hair. The baby coos at her again, small hands grabbing at her long hair, pulling on it gently. Savage gingerly removes the tiny fingers from her hair, her small smile growing slightly, as she tucks a stray curl behind Judith’s tiny ear.

“It’s been a long time.” Her voice is soft, raspy, almost soothing in a sense, and Carl can’t believe the scene that’s playing out in front of him. His small, fragile, _baby sister_ is in the arms of a man that has killed multiple people from group, whose fawning over a woman who may very well be the Devil herself, and he’s just _letting it happen_.

The world is truly a fucked-up place.

He didn’t try to get Judith back when Negan walked past him, down the stairs, and out on their little back porch. He didn’t try to get her back when he passed her to Savage, so he could remove his leather jacket, before placing Judith back on his knee, staring out at the community. He didn’t even try to get her back when Olivia came out, dropping an ice-cold lemonade on the table beside Negan, her eyes wide and full of fright before she darted back into the house. He just let his sister sit in the lap of a murderer, cooing her head off and flirting with him. And, Negan just let her, brushing her golden hair to the side, pressing the smallest of kisses to her temple. It was all so domestic.

_It made him sick._

It’s when Spencer walked into the backyard, that Carl scooped Judith away from Negan. Leather jacket back on, Negan walked beside Spencer, a friendly arm thrown over his shoulder as they talked. Carl watched them disappear, his heart in his throat as his little sister reached out for her new friend, a small whine escaping from the back of her throat.

“Easy there, little dove. He’ll be back before you know it.” Carl startled at the voice beside him, eye glancing up to cold ice staring down at him. A small smile pulled across her lips, hand brushing over Carl’s shoulders, up to his sister’s head. She patted it once, twice, before she slinked off after the pair walking down the center of the community, her gate long and slow. She turned back towards Carl momentarily, throwing a wink over her shoulder, and Carl could see the bits of paint that was smeared down her face from his sister, more of her tanned skin showing beneath her eyes. Carl sucked in a deep breath, before making his way back into the house, his little sister balancing on his hip.

What Carl wasn’t aware of, was the chaos that was about to fall upon Alexandria. Spencer plead his case to Negan, who listened to the entire thing with a small smirk. He managed to get the man to set up a pool table outside in the middle of the cul-de-sac, a pool cue in his hand as he lined up his shot.

“I know that I can be the leader that Alexandria deserves. And, with Rick out of the way, I’ll make sure you receive no resistance from us.” Negan hummed low in the back of his throat, sinking a ball into a corner pocket, before moving around the table and taking aim again.

“Sounds like you got this all figured out.” Spencer grinned to himself, unaware of the shadow that was dancing along the edge of the house behind them, icy eyes locked on to his every move. He boasted momentarily, leaning against the table as Negan lined up another shot, the ball going in, before he turned towards Spencer. A small crowd as formed around them, citizens of Alexandria watching the game with some interest, mostly with disgust. Negan grins at Spencer’s little spiel, _his plea_ , he can’t help but chuckle when the other man finishes.

Negan smiles, arms spread wide as he talks back, making a show to the people in the street. When he creeps closer to Spencer, his shadow moves a long with him. But, no one is prepared for the knife that slices through the air, or the squelching of Spencer’s guts sloshing onto the hot pavement. Negan smiles as the blood sprays across his torso, as the gasps and quiet cries fill the streets. He smiles serenely, picking up Lucille and dragging it slowly across the crowd in front of him.

“Anyone want to finish the game?” That’s when Rick walks up, eyes bloodshot, curly hair sticking to his forehead. He takes in the scene before him, another one of his people _dead_ at the hands of Negan. Doesn’t matter that he was a traitor, that he wanted him dead. _It was still his people_.

But, Rick has no control over his group, can’t stop what happens next.  Isn’t quick enough to pin Rosita down as she aims her stolen gun directly at Negan’s head, isn’t fast enough to shout at her before she pulls the trigger. The resounding fire echoes throughout the silent town, before a heaving grunt and thud lands across the pavement. Negan’s on the ground, eyes wide, knees covered in dirt and blood as he stares at the woman in front of him, gun pointed in his direction. He huffs out a breath, body racing with adrenaline, waiting for the pain of the bullet to fill his senses. It never does, a low groan echoing out beside him.

His eyes dart over, before they widen momentarily, and he’s scrambling.

“ ** _SAVAGE!_** ” The shadow groans again, one hand pressing to a shoulder, blood slowly seeping through her fingers. She grunts and clenches her teeth, eyes glossed over with pain as Negan kneels down in front of her. He can hear the scuffle behind him, bodies clashing against each other, but his attention is elsewhere. He stares down at the woman in front of him, eyes dark and imploring. He gingerly raises his hand to her injured shoulder, peeling her bloody hand back, a small hiss pushing pass her lips.

“It went straight through, looks like a clean shot.” She grimaced up at the man, grunting as he pulled his deep red scarf from his pocket, wrapping it around her shoulder tightly, before gently hoisting her up. His eyes are on fire when he turns back around, boring into the woman who is currently pinned to the ground, seething at him.

“What in the holy FUCK do you think you were trying to do?! Kill me?!” He howls, all calmness exiting his body like a demon who’s been exorcised. He pounces on her, knife still bloody from Spencer’s entrails pressed against her face.

“I should fuckin’ kill you for what you’ve done.” He growls, and she does nothing but snarl at him and leans into the blade.

“Then _do it_.” Negan smiles at her, all teeth, like a wolf staring down his prey. He nods his head slowly and Arat takes aim, gunning down Olivia with a slight turn of the head, her body slumping against the banister, before sliding down to the floor. Another wave of gasps echoes throughout the community, the woman below him struggling, eyes wide and mouth open. He grins down at her, pressing his lips to the shell of her ear.

“Her death is on your hands, sweetheart. Better think next time.” He pulls away, eyes darting over to Rick, who lays crumpled on the ground, his eyes dancing from Spencer, to Rosita, to Negan, then back again. He stares at something over Negan’s shoulders, making his entire body shudder.

Negan follows his line of site, Savage bloody and hunched over, slowly making her way towards him. He stands abruptly, pulling her into his side as she leans on him, eyes still glossed over with pain, but something else. She presses her lips to where his jaw meets his ear, murmuring something quietly before dropping to her knees and staring at the woman still pinned on the ground. She takes her good arm, lazily running it up and down Rosita’s, before she seizes her right wrist, holding it tight. With her injured arm, she slowly drags the gun from the holster on her hip, gingerly tracing it down Rosita’s arm, before it lands on her palm. She nudges her hand open with the gun, pressing the barrel at the crux where her index finger meets her palm. Her hand is shaking slightly as she stares down at the woman, cold eyes boring into tear-filled ones.

“Sorry ‘bout this. But, it’s only fair. I mean, _you shot me_.” Rosita didn’t have a chance to think about her words until another gun went off, and her right hand was on _fire_. She howled in pain as the woman got up off her, sweat pooling from her brow and down to her temple, dark hair sticking to the side of her face. Rosita looked down, gagged and held back a scream. Her right index finger lay completely separate from the rest of her hand, blood pouring out of the wound. She sucked in another breath, a loud scream piercing the air as she thrashed about, her hand tucked to her chest as she cried.

The Saviors didn’t spare anyone a passing glance as they made their way back to their vehicles, all of them protectively huddled around the shadow. Negan’s hand never left the small of her back, his brows drawn down, and lip in a thin line. His eyes narrowed on Rick as he passed, a low hiss of words getting carried away in the breeze.

“ _This isn’t over, Rick. No one hurts her._ ” Eugene was dragged behind them, eyes wide and pleading as they carted him away. Rick couldn’t do anything but watch as they disappeared again, before he turned his eyes to the woman who was squalling on the floor, and the man who was already coming back from the brink of death.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I am so sorry for the wait. I hit a real snag with this story, and just couldn't get the motivation to write. I jumped that hurtle, so hopefully updates won't be as sporadic. Thank you to everyone who continues to stick with this story, I may not be able to respond to all of you, but just know that I greatly appreciate all of your input. A special thanks to Nightingale 04, and guests for the kudos. Thank you for supporting this story.

The Sanctuary was bustling with commotion, most which fell on deaf ears. Negan wasn’t worried about Fat Joey’s death, or the escaped prisoner, or the possible _betrayal_ from someone in his ranks. _No_. He was worried about the shadow that laid out in front of him, tan skin looking placid and pale, dry blood caked along her shoulder, crystal eyes dull. He didn’t care about the eyes that watched him as he picked up the shadow, feather light, and plowed past others, didn’t hear the whispers or murmurs from his followers as he made is way down the winding corridors, didn’t hear a _damn_ thing until he kicked the medical bay door open.

Dr. Carson jumped, white lab coat flapping around the backs of his knees as Negan strolled forward, brows furrowed and lips then. He placed the shadow gently on the examination table, a small groan pushing past her lips. Before he whirled around and faced the doctor.

“She’s been shot. Straight through. You fuckin’ fix or _so help me God_ …” His voice was low, eyes fierce, and the doctor nodded his head furiously, scurrying over to the woman sprawled on the table. He placed a gentle hand on her uninjured shoulder, eyes dancing across her body momentarily before he spoke.

“I’m going to have to cut your shirt off to get access to your wounds, is that okay?” The woman below him cracked one eye open, ocean blue stark against black paint. She barely nodded her head, and it was all the doctor needed, before he grabbed a pair of scissors, starting at the hem of her shirt and slicing up. He slowly peeled her shirt open, exposing tanned skin, black sports bra clinging tightly to her body. He raised her injured arm, apologizing profusely as she gasped out in pain, peeling the long sleeve off of her, the fabric sticky with blood.

The wound was red and irritated, blood clotting around the edges of the torn skin. Dr. Carson coaxed the shadow to sit up, a painful wheeze pushing past her lips. His eyes danced across her back momentarily, filled with shock with what he saw, before he focused back on her injury.

Her entire back was tattooed, mottled black wings starting at her shoulder blades, swooping up over the swell of upper back, dipping all the way down to the dimples in her lower back. They took up the entire expanse of her back, the detail making the doctor believe they were almost _real_. They way that the tattoo was done, it made it appear the wings were actually sprouting from beneath her skin, twisting and pulling with her taut muscles.

It was something that he wasn’t expecting. The man perched against the door wasn’t expecting it either.

Negan’s eyes danced across the expanse of the woman’s back, taking in every delicate feather, the way her skin apparently broke at the start of her wings towards the center of her back, how they curved perfectly with her form, had they made her look almost _angelic_.

Then, his eyes narrowed in on the bullet wound that tore threw her shoulder blade. The skin around the wound red and inflamed, even beneath the layers of black ink. A low rumble rolled through the man’s chest as he stepped forward, hand grazing the woman’s other shoulder gently. Her body immediately relaxed, the tension in her shoulder melting slightly, the hunch that she had straightening ever so slightly.

“Never knew you had tattoos.” His voice was quiet, fingertip dragging slowing along the arch of the wing, flicking out gently at the first feather he came across. Goosebumps broke out across the woman’s back, a slight shiver running through her, before her bright eyes caught his.

“Ya never asked.” A small smile tugged at the edge of his lips, quickly replaced by a grimace when the woman hissed out in pain. The doctor apologized again, removing the rag covered in alcohol away from her wound, moving around to the back to get the exit hole. Her teeth clacked together as the older man gently rubbed the cold gauze across her shoulder, the alcohol seeping into her wound, the quiet sizzle ringing in her ears.

“It appears that the bullet missed your rotator cuff and clavicle. Appeared to be a clean shot through your supraspinatus and subscapularis muscles. Keeping your arm in a sling with limited movement for about 8-10 weeks should give your muscles enough time to stitch themselves back together.” The doctor moved around towards the front again, looking down at the shadow with a sad smile.

“Or, I can attempt to stitch up some of the muscles myself, its gonna hurt like a bitch, but it can cut your recovery time down to about 6 weeks, its up to you.” The shadow glanced over at the man hovering over both her and the doctor. His eyes were dark, with something that appeared to be anger, hatred swirling in the lines of his face.

“Might as well stitch ‘em up.” The doctor let out a quiet sigh, before walking over towards a cabinet, pilfering through the supplies, before he came back with his arms full. He moved back around towards the front of the woman, glasses now perched along the bridge of his nose, hands covered in gloves, a long-curved needle between his fingertips.

“Now, this is going to hurt. But I need you to sit as still as you possibly can. I can go ahead and give you a Lortab now to try and held combat the pain for after the procedure. You’re gonna be pretty sore for a couple of days.” The woman nodded, holding her hand out as a large white horse pill fell into it. She popped it in her mouth, swallowing it dry, before she nodded her head towards the doctor.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road.” The woman closed her eyes tightly, sucking in a breath. She ground her teeth together as she felt the tip of the needle dig into her wound, a small whimper escaping. Something warm crawled down her arm, across her elbow and over her wrist, before it settled tightly against her hand. Fingers flexed across the back of her hand, before they tugged her and gently over, slotting in between the open spaces of her hand. She cracked her eye open, squinting up at the man who held her hand tightly, nails digging into his thick skin.

“Easy there, tiger. Don’t need you causin’ me to get stitches too.” A pained laugh pushed past her lips, quickly replaced by a low groan as the doctor threaded the needle through her tender muscle again. The room was silent, besides the woman’s heavy breathing and the silent pricks against her skin every now and then. Negan stared down at the woman, and unreadable look on his face as she sporadically tightened her grip on his hand with each pass of the thread.

“Thank you.” The woman’s eyes shot open, staring up at the man towering over her. His face was still unreadable, but the woman had been around the man long enough to see the barely their softness at the edge of his eyes.

“Just doin’ my job, is all.” This time, it was his grip tightening around her hand, painfully so. She winced and looked up at him again, his dark eyes boring into her light ones. A silent message passed between the two of them, not a single word leaving their lips, but a thousand meanings being passed in a single second. The woman dropped her head down, letting out one final groan as the doctor threaded the needle through her skin one more time. She let out a sigh of relief as the doctor stepped away, the sounds of scissors snipping, before there was another cold pass across her shoulder.

“Alright, you’re all stitched up. Your lucky that the bullet didn’t nick any bones or tendons, it would’ve been a lot harder to fix. You’re gonna wanna change your bandages three times a day, whenever you take a shower, or whenever they get dirty. You’re gonna bleed some, but not too much. If there’s an excessive amount of blood, you come back to me immediately. You’re gonna be sore, real sore especially for the next couple of days. I’m gonna give you a few Lortabs and ibuprofen for the pain. I’m gonna also give you about a week’s worth of antibiotics to stave of infection. Take the Lortabs when you’re in _serious_ pain and the ibuprofen to help control it. I wish there was more that I could give you, but with the way the world is now, we need to save as much medicine as we can.” The doctor gave the woman a sad smile as he wrapped her shoulder. Once he was done, he went back towards his cabinet, pulling out a black sling, making his way back over to the woman.

“You’re gonna need to wear this sling for about six weeks. The less movement in your shoulder, the better. You can take it off when you sleep, but make sure you have some way of immobilizing your shoulder if you do. Come back once a week to check in with me, or if you think it’s getting worse. Other than that, you should regain the majority of your movement back.” The woman nodded again, shrugging her head through the opening in the sling and pulling her hair through. She stood slowly, back flexing momentarily, feathers dancing against her tanned skin.

“Thank you, doctor. I appreciate.” She gave him a small smile, before turning towards the door, stumbling slightly. The pain medicine was already making quick work in her system, the pain in her shoulder dulling slightly, her eyes growing heavy. She felt a hand on her shoulder, turning around lazily she saw Negan frown at her.

“And, where the hell do you think you’re goin’?” She raised her eyebrows at him, before looking towards the door, then back at him.

“I-I’m going back to my post?” Negan rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders, leather jacket falling down his arms. He pulled it off his body, white shirt pulling tight across his chest. Heavy leather wrapped around her shoulders and the shadow stared up at the man quizzically. Negan quirked his brow at the woman, turning towards the doctor, grabbing the bag that was in his hand, before turning back towards the woman.

“And, what? Just walk out there with your tits out for everyone to see? I don’t fuckin’ think so.” Crystal eyes trailed down, a slight blush crawling up her neck and to her ears. Negan was in front of her before she could come back with a quip, large hands tugging her uninjured arm through one of the sleeves, before he zipped the jacket up, covering the majority of her body. Her injured arm was pressed awkwardly against her body, but she didn’t seem to mind, reveling in the smell of leather around her.

“Come on, Savage. Let’s see what the fuck happened while we were gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated.


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